


Dissonance & Distraction

by phantisma



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-29
Updated: 2007-04-29
Packaged: 2017-11-14 19:46:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/518869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantisma/pseuds/phantisma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shadow, as it might have been, had Meg molested Sam and Dean decided to do something about that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dissonance & Distraction

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally a remix of a story by lj user veradeth who seems to have deleted her journal.

Wrecked. Dean, Dad…everything was wrecked, ravaged. Everything. Except that look. Through the blood and the devastation. Sam dropped his gaze and swallowed. The car seemed close, hot.

Sam tried to regulate his breathing as Dean said goodbye to their father.

Everything had changed in the last few hours. Sam spared a glance up as Dean got in the car. Dean didn’t have to look at him, the touch was enough. “It isn’t over.”

Dean nodded. “Let’s get someplace and get you cleaned up.”

Sam touches the bloody cheek…a reminder…

 

The Deavas had come close to killing them, not once, but twice.

None of them walked away without getting marked, not even their father…but Sam…his marks couldn’t all be seen.

_Baby, I’m already there._

He could still smell her.

Meg.

She’d played him. Played them both. And they’d been a half a step behind the entire way. The argument hadn’t helped. Dean…

_It feels so real, so close. They can end it. It could be over. And Sam can’t understand Dean’s attitude. ”But there’s got to be somethin’ that you want for yourself—“_

_“Yeah, I don’t want you to leave the second this thing’s over, Sam.” There is something in his voice, something different…stiff, uncomfortable. Sam watches him walk away, to the dresser._

_“Dude, what’s your problem?” It’s weird…this tension between them has nothing to do with the hunt…nothing to do with the deavas or Meg or the possibility that they might finally catch the demon. It is something else and Sam isn’t sure what._

_Dean turns back around slowly, tucking the gun in his hands into the waist of his jeans and taking a few steps closer. “Why do you think I drag you everywhere? Huh? I mean, why do you think I came and got you at Stanford in the first place?”_

_“Cause Dad was in trouble. ‘Cause you wanted to find the thing that killed Mom.”_

_Dean nods slowly. Then shakes his head. “Yes, that, but it’s more than that, man.” Dean makes a face, something Sam can’t interpret. “I need you Sam.” It’s said so softly Sam isn’t sure he’d heard it. Then Dean licks his lips and closes his eyes, shaking his head. “I mean--You and me and Dad—I mean, I want us….I want us to be together again. I want us to be a family again.”_

_Sam turns to face him. “Dean, we are a family. I’d do anything for you. But things will never be the way they were before.”_

_“Maybe I don’t want them to be the way they were before Sam.” Dean says, closing the distance between them. His face is intense, but Sam doesn’t know what it means and then Dean’s turning away, reaching for the last of the guns, loading it and nodding toward the door._

 

Even now…on the road, a half hour away from Chicago, from the motel room where blood and smoke covered darker stains, from the warehouse where they watched Meg fall, dragged to death by her own demons…even now Sam wasn’t sure of all the details…he knew the taste of her…he knew the feeling of her body against his.

_I think we both know how you really feel about me. You know, I saw you watching me—changing in my apartment. Turned you on, didn’t it?_

Of course, it started as a distraction. He’d seen the knife, knew Dean was working at getting free…was working at it himself, while she entertained herself with his mouth and neck.

_I didn’t mind. I liked that you were watching me. Come on, Sammy. You and I can still have a little dirty fun._

He’d hissed when her hands moved below his belt, glancing aside at Dean who told Sam to keep with the distraction, though he never said a word. Sam hadn’t meant to get aroused. His eyes had caught on Dean…on Dean’s arousal and somehow, her hand was around him, jacking him off and Sam couldn’t breathe.

_You like me don’t you Sammy?_

Then Dean had been there, his tiny blade buried into Meg, then tossing her to the floor, and Sam’s hands pulled while Dean sliced at what was left of the rope. He’d come. Unexpected. Breathless. Meg laughed and Dean stomped to the altar, over turning it, then ducking out of the way as the daeva slid through the dark to grab Meg.

Sam had collected himself, still dazed. He remembered standing in the broken window, looking down at her, Dean’s hand on his arm.

_”So, I guess the Daevas didn’t like being bossed around.” He’s not sure of himself, or the way Dean is looking at him._

_“Yeah, I guess not. Hey, Sam?”_

_“Hm?”_

_“Next time you wanna get laid…” His voice trails off and he squints up at his brother. “Never mind, let’s go get you patched up.”_

 

“Sam?”

Dean pulled them off the road, into a deserted rest stop. Sam looked up and Dean held up the first aid kit. “Patched up?”

“Yeah…okay.”

Sam followed him into the men’s room, and let Dean fuss over the cuts on his face. Water, peroxide, that face Dean made when he didn’t like how Sam got hurt. “These probably should be stitched.”

“We don’t have time for that.”

Sam reached for Dean, for the wound on his head, but Dean pulled away. “I’m fine Sammy. Let’s just get back on the road.”

“Dean—“

“Sam. I meant it.”

Sam swallowed, licked his lips. He knew what Dean meant and it had nothing to do with the injuries either of them had sustained.

_Sam doesn’t stop moving when they get back to the room. He drops the duffel and moves into the bathroom, eager to wash the scent of her from his skin, to clean the dirt he can feel in his pores. The water isn’t hot enough, hard enough…he can’t scrub enough. Eventually he gives up and emerges from the bathroom,_

_He can feel Dean’s eyes before he’s fully through the door, then his hand is on Sam’s arm and his body is pushing into Sam’s space and his face has that unrecognizable look in it again._

_When Dean kisses him, Sam doesn’t react, doesn’t know how to react. “Mine.” Dean whispers and Sam blinks. He’s confused, uncertain._

_“Dean?” He whispers too._

_Dean’s hand is on the towel, under the towel, cupping Sam and stroking him slowly. “Mine.” His second kiss is fiercer, lips giving way to teeth, tongue demanding against Sam’s lips. Sam’s a little slow to react, but Dean doesn’t seem to notice, his hands working over Sam’s cock until Sam’s head drops back against the wall._

_“Hated watching her touch you, Sammy.” Dean whispers, his lips skating along the column of Sam’s neck._

_“Dean…what…”_

_Sam’s hard in Dean’s hand and Dean stops, looks at Sam. “I don’t want things to be the same anymore Sam. I want this. I’ve wanted this.” Sam’s lips part easily under his this time, though Sam is still confused, it’s fairly clear he wants it too…at least at the moment._

_“Mine Sammy...” Dean murmurs, leaning in closer, his body pressing against Sam’s. Sam slowly nods as Dean releases his lips. Slowly understands the look, the touch…the tension between them. It has nothing to do with the hunt, nothing to do with brothers and their missing father. It has nothing to do with Meg or the demon. It is this. Sam nods again. “Yes, Dean.” Sam whispers as Dean goes back to stroking him. “Yours.”_

_When Sam comes, Dean supports him, held tight between Dean and the wall, shuddering into Dean’s hand while Dean sucks a bruise into his collarbone._

“Don’t be an ass, Dean. Let me look.”

Dean made a face and stopped pulling away. Sam’s long fingers pressed alongside the wound and Dean hissed. “Sorry.” Sam murmured. He wet a paper towel and cleaned away the blood. “You’ve probably got a mild concussion. You should let me drive.”

“Not on your life Sam.” Dean said, but it was quiet, without its usual sting. Sam grinned down at him while he fished in the first aid kit for a bandage.

Dean’s fingers pushed aside the collar of Sam’s shirt, finding their way to the bruise…one of several that weren’t the result of the daevas or Meg or any of the other fights and hunts. Sam swallowed and tried to focus on his task, but the memory was fresh and his body ached.

_Dean’s hands…possessive, needy…they touch and guide and Sam follows along, back to the bathroom, to the shower…and he thinks Dean might be trying to wash Meg from his skin too…though Sam fears that may never happen. Dean washes him, kisses him, touches him…_

_“I need you Sammy…need this…can’t let you get away again.”_

_Sam can’t imagine being anywhere else right at that moment. “Here…I’m here Dean.”  
He stops then, turning Sam to face him. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” And he looks like he might just break in two if Sam says anything, so Sam doesn’t…he just kisses him, draws his hands back to his skin…offers up the only thing he has to ease the fear and pain._

_Dean is hard and wanting and pressed against Sam’s thigh and Sam knows…because this is Dean and he’s claimed him…and Sam somehow can’t imagine how it is this has never happened before now. “Mine.” Dean murmurs as he moves into him and Sam lowers his head, braced against the shower wall, opening himself up, trying to relax into it as Dean buries his face in Sam’s shoulder and thrusts up and in. “Mine.”_

_And maybe the soap and water did nothing to erase Meg from his skin, but Sam thinks maybe this might._

 

“We need to keep moving.” Dean said, and Sam nodded.

He was right. They didn’t know the range the daevas had, didn’t know if they were being followed. They needed to keep moving.

“Do you think Dad is okay?” Sam asked as they climbed back into the Impala.

Dean inhaled sharply, then nodded. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

“He was hurt.”

John Winchester had showed just after they had emerged from the bathroom. Sam had been sure he’d smell the sex on the air, but if he did, he said nothing.

_The door opens and they turn, startled, calming only when they see their father in the doorway. “Hey, boys”_

_“Dad?” Dean moves across the room and John engulfs him in an embrace that makes Sam feel alone and uncomfortable._

_“Hey, Dad.” Sam says softly, not sure what to expect._

_“Dad, it was a trap. I didn’t know, I’m sorry.” Dean says, moving back, making a face at Sam that he knew was Dean’s way of encouraging him to just go with this._

_“It’s all right. I thought it might’ve been.” John says, moving into the room now._

_“Were you there?”_

_“Yeah, I got there just in time to see the girl take the swan dive. She was the bad guy, right?”_

_“Yes, sir.” Dean and Sam say together, looking at one another._

“He was hurt and we just let him drive away, Dean.”

Dean nodded, his eyes skimming the road before glancing at Sam. “He’s Dad. He’ll be fine.” The car was silent then. Miles stretched beneath them. Sam’s fingers are pressed across his stomach, thrumming against a bruise in the perfect image of Dean’s thumb. His body was sore from the fight, from the tension…from the fucking that followed. There was a burn on his left thumb from the flare.

Dean’s hand was on his knee…possessive. It had been his decision. His decision to kiss Sam. His decision to take the fight to Meg. His decision to send their father away.

_”All right, come on. We don’t have much time. As soon as the flare’s out, they’ll be back.” Sam’s bleeding, holding a hand against his ravaged cheek, urging them on._

_“Wait, wait. Sam, wait. Dad, you can’t come with us.” Dean stops, hangs his head and Sam isn’t sure what he’s hearing._

_This whole fucking day has been a series of uncertain moments and Sam feeling like he’s stuck three steps behind his brother. “What? What are you talkin’ about?”_

_“You boys—you’re beat to hell.” John says, reaching out to ghost a hand over Sam’s face._

_“We’ll be all right.” ___

_“Dean, we should stick together. We’ll go after those demons—“_

_“Sam! Listen to me! We almost got Dad killed in there. Don’t you understand?” He takes a step closer, his hand on Sam’s shoulder, his thumb grazing the mark he’s made on his collarbone. “They’re not gonna stop, they’re gonna try again. They’re gonna use us to get to him. I mean, Meg was right. Dad’s vulnerable when he’s with us. He’s—he’s stronger without us around.”_

_Sam shakes Dean off, ignoring the look and reaching for his father. “Dad, no. After everything, after all the time we spent lookin’ for you—please. I gotta be a part of this fight.”_

_He knows though. He knows he’s not winning this round. Knows Dean is right. Knows. He swallows against the tears as their father shakes his head. “Sammy, this fight is just starting. And we are all gonna have a part to play. For now, you’ve got to trust me, son. Okay, you’ve gotta let me go.”_

It was Dean’s decision, but Sam was the one who let go. If he’d held on…if he’d grabbed a hold, his father would have come with them. But he didn’t. He let go. He could feel Dean’s eyes and looked up.

There was a question there. And like much of the rest of the day, Sam wasn’t sure how to answer it. Somewhere out there, in the dark, their father was alone. But they had this. Sam settled his hand over Dean’s and raised it to his lips. He didn’t have an answer…not with words anyway. But as he sucked Dean’s finger into his mouth and Dean’s eyes got dark and guided the car off the road, he knew Dean got the message all the same.


End file.
